Beyoncé's POV
Jealousy is a cruel word, an even crueller feeling. It can make you do awful things. Why he was doing this to me I didn't know, but I knew that I hated her even more than I did him right now.
Even her smile made my skin crawl, watching her hands trail down his muscular arms where mine should have been.
He really was taking the piss but he knew it, he knew how he made me feel, how much I wanted, needed him. So now he was making me pay for not wanting to make things official.
Yeah, Shawn asked me to officially be his girl and I declined not ready to jump into the relationship thing after my last.
You might have thought me mad; Shawn was the most attractive guy I'd ever been with, the most amazing in every aspect. But that was exactly why I found the concept of being with him officially particularly daunting. The prospect that I'd have to let him in completely, make things more than physical, make it so much easier for him to just up and leave me, to hurt me, I didn't like being hurt.
But there was no denying that this feeling I was having watching him now lean in and whisper in her ear was just as painful.
He pulled her in close, and trailed his hands down her body, my stomach lurched as I saw her tongue flicker over his ear lobe and then kiss just below it. even from the distance I was observing at it was sickening to watch. Then he did it, then he did the thing that sent me over the edge, my mind racing, my heart pounding, fists clenching. He turned to me and smirked, staring me straight in the eye whilst letting the little slut carry on kissing his neck. In that moment I hated him, I hated him more than anything on the planet, aside from her of course. The only problem was, as much as I hated him, I had never ever wanted him so badly in my whole entire life.
I stormed over to him, a wave of adrenaline taking over my actions. I felt like I wasn't even in control anymore, the club lights were dim, the music pounding, the whole mood spurring me on further, urging me onwards.
I grabbed hold of the material of the girl's dress and pushed her away harshly. She cried out and stumbled back tripping over her heels and landing in a pile on the floor.
"What the fuck?!" she exclaimed.
"Get up slut!" I couldn't even control the words pouring out of my mouth, full of anger and hate, I barely recognized my own voice. It was as if I'd stepped outside of my body and left this hard bitch to take over the situation.
"Who are you?" she asked shrilly, her face crinkling up.
"I said, get the fuck up. We can all see your panties, and although you've probably shown them to half the men in this bar tonight I for one definitely do not want to see them"
She stood up, stamping her feet slightly as she did and trying to straighten her outfit down to no avail.
"Now fuck off, no one wants you here."
"Fuck you." she spat, before giving me the dirtiest look I had ever received in my life. My head was pounding, this wasn't me, I was so scared she was about to hit me straight in the face but instead she looked over my shoulder, clearly looking for some kind of defence from Jay, obviously having received none, she turned and marched dramatically out of the club and off into the night.
I breathed a silent sigh of relief, slowly I turned back to Harry. He wasn't off of the hook no matter what the smirk on his face implied that he might be thinking.
"You." I said to him slowly, I tried to speak alluringly but it wasn't exactly my forte.
"What was that about Beyoncé?" he asked, with a faux confusion being put across in his voice, his real emotions not masked well by the smile on his face.
